


On Bleeding Feet

by Runwildwithme (NectarinesAndSourThings)



Series: Sorority (k)nights [1]
Category: Elsewhere University (Webcomic)
Genre: Bargains, Deals, Fae & Fairies, Fraternities & Sororities, Fuckbuddies, Kay banged a gentry and brags about it, Names, Quests, Sex Positive, fae, i had probably too much fun with their names, rated for language, that's it that's the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-12-11 18:03:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11719635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NectarinesAndSourThings/pseuds/Runwildwithme
Summary: Kay threw open the door to the sorority and struck a pose against the door frame. She looked like hell on wheels, and not in the good way: her feet were barefoot and filthy, strappy five-inch heels dangled from her fingers, her hair was tousled, smoky-eye makeup from the night before had been smeared into raccoon-vogue, her skirt was rumpled, her blouse stained, her nylons were barely hanging together and, on the whole, were made of more tears than solid fabric.“Calm your fuckin tits, do away with the gnashing of teeth, and cease your fucking weeping! Rejoice, my fellow sluts, for I have returned!’





	On Bleeding Feet

**Author's Note:**

> ...I have no explanations, other than that the thought made me giggle, and so of course I had to write it. ;p I may or may not have a few more snippets in me about these girls, as they are quite a bit of fun. :D

Kay threw open the door to the sorority and struck a pose against the door frame. She looked like hell on wheels, and not in the good way: her feet were barefoot and filthy, strappy fve-inch heels dangled from her fingers, her hair was tousled, smoky-eye makeup from the night before had been smeared into raccoon-vogue, her skirt was rumpled, her blouse stained, her nylons were barely hanging together and, on the whole, were made of more tears than solid fabric.

 

“Calm your fuckin tits, do away with the gnashing of teeth, and cease your fucking weeping! Rejoice, my fellow sluts, for I have returned!’

 

A group of young women looked up at her from where they were gathered on the floor in the living room.

 

They weren't in a much better state than Kay was- bleary eyed, clutching coffee mugs, and hungover to a one, most were only barely awake, though they were in PJs as opposed to last night's clothes, and had at least gotten most of their makeup off the night before. In the center they had amassed what might appear to the uninitiated eye a great big pile of junk, among which was several pieces of cheap jewelry, packets of seeds, a couple jars of honey, a few more of jam, a pile of handmade hats and fingerless gloves, a space blanket, and a ring of old keys.

 

The girl with the biggest mug - it was hot pink, had ‘fuck off’ scrolled across it in delicately curling calligraphy, and held at least twenty ounces of coffee that was, quite honestly, brewed so strongly it approached ‘sludge-like’ in consistency- squinted up at Kay.

 

‘You absolute bitch.’ Art said. ‘We thought for fuckin sure you were dead this time.’

 

‘Oh, I died,’ Kay cackled. ‘I died about twelve separate small deaths, if you catch my drift!’

 

There was silence amongst the gathered women for perhaps a count of four, and then the least hungover of those gathered (also the least cleaned up- a hint of lip stain haunted the edges of her mouth, and her left eye still boasted a truly prodigious set of fake eyelashes) darted through the kitchen to the stairs, and shouted up them to wake the rest of the sorority.

 

‘KAY’S BACK,’ Gala hollered, ‘AND SHE FINALLY BANGED A GENTRY!’

  


Again, a blip of silence, and then the entire house filled up with raucous screeching, hangovers temporarily forgotten, the rest of the sorority pouring out of bathrooms and bedrooms to descend upon their prodigal sister.

 

Heading the charge, a particularly robust voice rang out.

 

‘GALA, YOU LYING WHORE THERE IS _NO FUCKING WAY’_

 

Kay, still posing against the door frame, just kept cackling.

 

\--

 

Lin was raised from her rest, shuffled into the kitchen and stationed in front of the pantry. Gala drew the shutters, backed out, closed the door, and set an alarm on her phone for fifteen minutes.

 

(Lin had bargained for the best hangover cure both creatable with locally available ingredients and edible by humans, and while she was oath-bound to never disseminate the recipe or allow others to watch her making it, she could and did make batches large enough to go around. Lin was, as one can imagine, a much loved individual.)

 

They all checked phones for emails and texts- brightness on the lowest setting- until Gala’s phone chirped.

 

She knocked on the kitchen door, waited a moment, knock again, and then announced, ‘Lin, I'm coming in!’

 

Very slowly, she opened the door. Lin stood there, a tray of glasses full of her cure, kitchen spotless with not a single ingredient in sight, and they all breathed a sigh of relief.

 

Cure was choked down by all willing to brave it, and Percie, as designated ‘lorekeeper’ of the sorority (she ran all the social media accounts. _All of them)_ , took charge.

 

Like the others, she was absolutely feeling the night before- her eyes were particularly bloodshot, and she was running on about two hours less sleep than the rest (those accounts wouldn't update themselves).

 

Nonetheless, she herded everyone out onto the back porch where there were enough chairs and cushions to go around,  hissed down any objection to the sunlight, and settled in to take notes as Gwennie convened court.

 

Kay lounged, resplendent, in the largest beanbag they had, gracefully accepted an ice coffee from ‘Celot, and waited for the questions.

 

They were, when they came, not very eloquent.

 

‘Celot - on her third coffee of the afternoon- spoke first.

 

‘Did you _really_ get freaky with a Gentry?’

 

' _So_ freaky, my dear. _So freaky.’_ Kay sighed, and crossed her legs in such a way that her skirt rode up enough to show off fingerprint bruises on her thighs.

 

The gathering descended briefly into a tittering mass.

 

Gwennie fielded the next question once they all quieted down.

 

‘Kay, last we saw you last night you were all wound up with one of Them, and all Tris heard before you were whisked away was something about dancing on bleeding feet. How the fuck did you make it back from that, you magnificent bitch?’

 

Kay smiled a smug smile, and did not care at all about the lipstick smear darting across her left cheek.

 

‘I was- indeed- all wrapped up with one of Them last night. He's been hanging around at Kappa Phi’s parties lately, and we all know about my goal. Apparently words started going around on Their side of things too, and I finally found one of ‘em just as curious as I am.’ Kay paused, and took a delicate sip from her drink.

 

‘The deal was that I got an orgasm for every hour I danced on bleeding feet.’

 

Tris, a look of awe upon her face, asked ‘Wait, ‘every hour you _danced_ ’, past tense, no other qualifiers?’

 

Kay’s smile stretched into something both hungry and satiated, _immensely_ pleased (as well as pleased with herself), and nodded.

 

‘Holy fuck’ Tris breathed, and Art snorted ‘Indeed,’ under her breath.

 

‘Wait, why is that important?’ Lin asked.

 

Percie was already pulling up pictures on her phone.

 

‘Phrased that way, the deal didn't preclude past instances, and Kay’s here on a dance scholarship- she’s a fucking _ballerina.’_ Percie brandished her phone, and indeed there were many pictures of Kay in recitals, in costume backstage, and even a few pictures of her feet- blistered, bloody, and clearly taken only for the ‘ew, gross’ factor.

 

There was silence as everyone took that in, sipping on various vectors for caffeine.

 

‘So how many does he still owe you?’ Gwennie asked.

 

Kay stretched her arms above her head and laughed.

 

‘He's picking me up again for _every Friday_ that I'm enrolled at EU.’  


End file.
